


Topaz to Garnet

by EssayOfThoughts



Series: MCU Maximoff Oneshots [22]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Infinity War speculation, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2018-05-09 19:43:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5552834
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EssayOfThoughts/pseuds/EssayOfThoughts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her scarlet is dancing around her hands, without much direction or guide, but that is how it prefers to be; its own kind of chaos. Wanda looks at the gaping hole on Vision’s brow, sees the fading ruin of his mind and decides <i>I shall not lose this one too.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Topaz to Garnet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TobermorianSass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TobermorianSass/gifts).



> Very much speculation for what will inevitably happen in _Infinity War_ when Thanos tries to collect the stone on Vision's brow. Likely going to be wholly disproven come the films, but that won't be for a few years, so WAHEY.

 

It is Wanda who finds Vision after the attack – the base torn open, nothing but dust where people once stood - and she is certain the only thing holding her together in all this chaos and carnage is that after all she has lost and with all her power nothing any more can touch her. Vision is crumpled, right in the epicentre, and the gem on his brow is gone.

“Vision,” she breathes, for through all that has happened Vision has been the kind one, Vision got her off the rock, Vision taught her to speak again when she would rather have sunk into the ground beside her brother. Even in their war, on opposite sides, he had not targeted her, had not taunted her loss. He _understood_ , in some impossible way, and offered kindness freely.

Wanda kneels beside his prone form, and wonders if that is how she had looked when he had found her after Novi Grad. Crumpled, smaller than life, and not entirely there. She brushes the thought aside.

“Vision,” she repeats and reaches towards him, tries to find that half-pulse of his she _knows_ must be there, for the not-blood coagulating but still flowing at his brow to be behaving as it is. She presses two fingers to his brow, gentle as she dares and either side of the gaping wound where the golden stone usually rests. _Vision?_ She calls, and she is within his mind. The ordered orange is chaos, the green and magenta neurons are fading, and the bright yellow-gold that has been there since his first moments is _gone_.

Her scarlet is dancing around her hands, without much direction or guide, but that is how it prefers to be; its own kind of chaos. Wanda looks at the gaping hole on Vision’s brow, sees the fading ruin of his mind and decides _I shall not lose this one too._

Scarlet lashes out and binds together. Red and crimson, burgundy and blood, vermillion and cerise, all the shades of red she can think of and find within herself pour out her hands. _Mind Magic,_ she thinks. _Whatever it is that gives me minds, come out._

It comes pouring out of her hands in a gushing torrent, red and red and _red_ , and twists together into a crimson so intense it looks solid.

Then it falls into her palms and Wanda knows it is.

She rolls it in her fingers, and feels nothing of it but a slight warmth, and the nature of her own gifts. It is not an Infinity Stone, it is not the Mind Gem, but it is _of the mind_ , and Wanda presses it to the gaping hole in Vision’s brow, and for the first time since she was ten she _prays_.

Hebrew comes, where she thought she had forgotten, and in the cathedral of her mind, she can see the façade walls flickering, the synagogue coming through. _Please_ , she thinks and she is not sure if it is Sokovian or Hebrew or English she uses. _I cannot lose another._

And like a miracle, Vision’s mind brightens.

 

* * *

 

“What did you do?” Natasha asks later, and Wanda shrugs. They are waiting for Sam, and possibly Clint – he said he might show – and Vision is sitting a little ways a way, fingers gently massaging the skin around the deep red gem Wanda made.

“I…,” Wanda doesn’t know how to explain. “I couldn’t lose him too,” she decides on. “I made my gifts make a gem and I hoped it would be enough.” There is silence and Wanda thinks Natasha may be shocked. “I _prayed_ ,” she says, and lets her tone tell Natasha how long it has been since she has done so with any real earnestness.

“I think,” Natasha says, voice soft, “You may have saved his life.”

Wanda shrugs. “He’s been kind to me since… since Novi Grad. After…,” she sighs and changes tack. “I cannot lose any more people I care about. My brother was _half of me_. There would not be enough of me left if I lost more.”

Wanda does not quite know what to make of Natasha’s expression after that, and goes to sit with Vision.

 

* * *

 

Wanda’s fingertips are gentle, skimming around the red stone that now fills in Vision’s brow. The stone is smooth, and does not spark towards her gifts as the Infinity Stone had, but it is warm, and it is maintaining Vision well enough. She brushes her thumb over the garnet of it.

“Does it hurt?” She has lapsed to Sokovian, as she tends to with Vision, able as he is to speak the language back.

“Dully,” Vision says, “Not nearly as much as it did when it was taken.” His hands gently touch Wanda’s elbow, and Wanda’s hands withdraw. “Thank you,” he says, and it is with all the earnestness of his nature. “Truly, thank you. You saved my life.”

Wanda shrugs. “You saved mine,” she says. “At Novi Grad, you saved mine. I do not wish to lose those I care about again.”

They are silent for a while, Vision’s hand still gentle on her arm. She does not mind his touch. It is not like the others, from whom she will still flinch away, it is not even like Pietro whose mere presence had been a comfort. It was grounding, however, and Wanda appreciated that now, when the lack of her hurtling brother made her feel like she was hurtling through time and space herself.

“Your gifts,” Vision says, his voice still soft. “Are they…?”

Wanda smiles, just a touch, lets her fingers slip to take Vision’s hand. “They are fine,” she says. “I can see your mind, as well as it can be, considering. It is what stopped my worry.”

Vision’s hand is cool with the vibranium in his cells, but it does not stop Wanda from feeling warm when he squeezes her hand.

 

* * *

 

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment!


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